Sneaky Sweatshirt Snare

“Wayne, put that down!” Lanny steered the car to the sidewalk and turned off the engine.

“Why?” I asked. The Stinkiness grew but it wasn’t so bad anymore. In fact I was starting to feel really good. As if I’d been smoking a prime stoogie.

“Wayne.” I could hear Lanny panic, though I didn’t understand why. “THROW THAT THING OUT OF THE WINDOW NOW !”

“Why,” I asked, finding myself slipping the stained and torn sweatshirt over my head. “It feels perfectly soft and comfortable.”

“Because,” he said, genuine terror in his voice. “I can’t see you any more.”

I had to admit, at this point, all I could see was a silvery landscape.

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